


Reservations

by Qu_Marsh



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 09:03:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3350981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qu_Marsh/pseuds/Qu_Marsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quistis has reservations about so many things, but not about Xu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reservations

You're Quistis motherfucking Trepe, and the world can kiss your ass.

What most people see of you is only what you want them to see, which is perfection. You graduated at the top of your class in Garden; you broke every record. The only thing you had to learn in school was how to pretend to work more slowly so that you wouldn't embarrass the other students. You've mastered presenting every sign of outward success: perfectly pressed uniform, polite yet upbeat responses to every e-mail, constructive criticism on every student paper. You bite your tongue when you really need to. You're never late and always right. And you don't require anything in exchange for it except another five cups of coffee. 

You're Quistis motherfucking Trepe, and you were a bona fide child prodigy. 

The people you actually kinda like—Squall, Selphie, maybe Zell—get to deal with the fact that underneath that perfection, you're actually a cynical jerk. You don't expect anything from this world because it's never _given_ you anything. You're not some dirty hippie like Rinoa, cashing checks from your mother's trust fund while subscribing to _Anarchist Monthly_. The only thing _your_ parents ever left you with was an unpronounceable name when they abandoned you on a hospital doorstep. Your shitty foster family wasn't much help, either. You did this all on your own, because you _had_ to, because you knew there was no one to catch you if you fell. 

You're Quistis motherfucking Trepe, and _you_ made you. 

And then the people who are lucky enough to _really_ know you know that underneath the cynicism, you're actually a big ol' softie who's deeply invested in her friends, the kind of person who remembers embarrassing stories about Zell crashing his T-Board in the ladies' room to tease him about later. And when you've been on one of your multi-day resentment benders, all it takes is one _stop-being-silly_ look from Xu to knock you back to your senses and make you feel sheepish about it all. There's not a lot of things in this world that you love, but one of them is her. And confronted with someone who actually kinda makes you happy, you realize that maybe not _everything_ is terrible, and it might just be worth it to let bygones be bygones and give this whole life thing one more try. 

You're Quistis motherfucking Trepe, and you're in love.


End file.
